


The Triumphs and Defeats, the Epic Highs and Lows

by dirtbag



Category: Dimension 20 (Web Series)
Genre: M/M, kissing the homies as a friendship-affirming activity
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-17
Updated: 2020-08-17
Packaged: 2021-03-06 04:48:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,145
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25947601
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dirtbag/pseuds/dirtbag
Summary: “Wait,” Ragh says slowly, as comprehension dawns. “Is this—are we talking about a three-way Owlbear MVP makeout sesh?”Fabian rolls his visible eye. “Honestly, Ragh, try to keep up.”
Relationships: Fabian Aramais Seacaster/Gorgug Thistlespring, Ragh Barkrock/Fabian Aramais Seacaster, Ragh Barkrock/Fabian Aramais Seacaster/Gorgug Thistlespring, Ragh Barkrock/Gorgug Thistlespring
Comments: 10
Kudos: 132





	The Triumphs and Defeats, the Epic Highs and Lows

**Author's Note:**

> HAPPY BDAY TO LEAH, NUMBER ONE RAGH FAN AND NUMBER ONE GIRLFRIEND

Ragh is feeling bummed about Fathethriel. 

Logically, he knows he shouldn’t be. He'd managed to lose his virginity to an attractive guy, an accomplishment he wouldn’t even have allowed himself to consider as a possibility around this time last year. But it’s now, not last year, and it’d happened, and the fact of the matter is that Ragh has somehow managed to feel bummed anyway. 

Right now he’s wandering through the woods on the outskirts of Kei Lumennura, moodily eating leftover grapes from his jacket pocket as he thinks about how bummed he is. His vague trajectory is back towards the clearing they’d left the van parked in, hoping to maybe figure out some way to make himself useful, even though thinking about Kalina after everything that’s happened still makes his skin crawl. 

He wishes he could talk to his mom about it, but if Aguefort is to be believed then right now she’s nothing but a disembodied consciousness hidden deep underground. If he thinks about _that _for too long he might actually start freaking out, so Ragh does his best to imagine Jawbone’s voice in his head telling him to take a deep breath.__

__He wishes there was some undergrowth to crash through, some twigs to snap underneath his sneakers so that his maelstrom of weird emotions could be in some way reflected on the outside environment. Instead there’s just an uninterrupted stretch of grassy forest floor, immaculate in the rays of sunlight that filter down through the canopy._ _

__Ragh thinks about hurling his last grape at a tree trunk, just for something to do, and ultimately decides against it. On top of everything else, he’s actually pretty hungry._ _

__Thankfully, as he chews on the final grape, a distraction manifests in the form of distant voices up ahead._ _

__He sees Gorgug and Fabian before he can actually make out what they’re saying, thanks to the uninterrupted visibility of this stupid forest. They don’t notice him coming, either; no matter how hard he stomps, the sound of his approach is as gentle as the footfalls of a baby deer._ _

__“I’m just saying,” Ragh finally hears as he comes up on the edge of the clearing. Gorgug’s lanky body is balanced carefully on top of Fig’s skateboard as he slides out from underneath the van. “It’d probably cheer him up.”_ _

__“I’m _telling_ you, Gorgug,” Fabian says. He’s on the other side of the van, watching Gorgug work and kind of ambiently dancing the way he’s been doing ever since they got back from their rescue mission. “He’s over it. We’re just going to look foolish.” _ _

__They seem to be the only ones around—Ragh can see that the van’s doors are flung wide open, and it doesn’t look like there’s anyone else inside. It’s not that Ragh doesn’t like the others, or anything, but noticing that makes him feel relieved. Some quality hang-time might be the perfect antidote for his current mood._ _

__“Hey, dudes,” he says, striding the rest of the way into the clearing and giving Fig’s skateboard a friendly shove with the toe of his sneaker. “Who’re we cheering up?” There’s no obvious male candidate he can think of—Riz, maybe, or Gilear, although Ragh thinks that cheering up Gilear would probably require a lot more resources than they have access to._ _

__Neither of them answer him right away, which is weird. Gorgug sits up quickly on the skateboard like he’s been startled, and Fabian stops dancing._ _

__“Oh, hello, Ragh,” Fabian finally says. “We didn’t hear you coming.” He sounds a little stiff._ _

__Ragh looks between the two of them and frowns. These are definitely not the healing vibes he’d envisioned as he walked over here._ _

__Gorgug and Fabian exchange a look that Ragh can’t begin to parse the meaning of, one that results in Gorgug clambering up off the skateboard and putting down the wrench he’d been holding. The sleeves of his hoodie are rolled up past his elbows, and there’s a smear of van grease across his cheek. “Hey, Ragh,” he says. “Uh. We were talking about you, actually.”_ _

__Ragh blinks. “Huh? Me?”_ _

__Gorgug nods and leans back against the hood of the van. For some reason he looks faintly embarrassed. “It’s just, uh, it seemed like things got kinda weird with you and that elf dude, and so we thought maybe we could, uh. Offer our services. If you want.”_ _

__Ragh leans against the van, too, feeling its warmth against his back. “Dudes. I appreciate you thinking of me, but it’s not like I got dumped or anything.”_ _

__The longer this conversation goes on, the more Ragh starts feeling like he’d like to run away from it. He hadn’t meant to make any of this anyone else’s problem. Sure, he’s bummed, but it’s a background-noise kind of bummed, the kind that he can just hold onto until all of this is over and there’s time to puzzle through it._ _

__“You don’t have to get dumped to deserve cheering up,” Gorgug says, with such earnestness in his voice that Ragh is pretty sure his own romantic situation is not the only one they’re talking about anymore._ _

__“Okay, fair enough,” Ragh says, shoving his hands into his jacket pockets. His fingers brush against a loose grape stem, which is so completely the last thing he needs to be thinking about right now. “But like, what kinda services are we talkin’ here? ‘Cause you don’t need to go beat him up or anything, I think he’s just pretty misguided about some things—”_ _

__“Ragh, we’re trying to make out with you,” Fabian interrupts loudly, coming around from the other side of the van to glare at them both like they’re being very tiring. “Does that sound like something you would be into?”_ _

__Ragh is so surprised he snaps the grape stem in half. “Whoah,” he says. “You’re what?”_ _

__“I told you,” Fabian says, turning back to Gorgug. “He doesn’t want to anymore.”_ _

__Gorgug sighs, like Fabian is just being sort of pedantic instead of completely insane. “I’m not trying to force him to make out with us, Fabian. I was just saying we should let him know that the offer’s on the table.”_ _

__“Wait,” Ragh says slowly, as comprehension dawns. “Is this—are we talking about a three-way Owlbear MVP makeout sesh?”_ _

__Fabian rolls his visible eye. “Honestly, Ragh, try to keep up.”_ _

__“Only if you want,” Gorgug clarifies. “We just thought—y’know. This has all been weird, right? And it really was a good idea.”_ _

__Ragh is beginning to feel something similar to hope blooming in his chest. Before he lets himself get too carried away, there’s one more thing he has to clarify._ _

__“Listen,” he says. “This is maybe the nicest thing anyone’s ever tried to do for me, but if you guys just feel bad for me, you don’t need to—”_ _

__“Oh, it’s not that,” Fabian assures him, holding his hands up. “We definitely want to.”_ _

__Gorgug nods solemnly. “Spring break, right?”_ _

__Ragh ponders this for a few more seconds, but no matter how hard he thinks about it he can’t see any downsides to a short platonic makeout with two of his best friends in the world._ _

__“Fuck it,” he says, bumping Gorgug’s shoulder with his own the way he always does when they’re waiting for practice to start. “Spring break.”_ _

____

— — —

It takes a few minutes for the three of them to pile into the van and push their way through the various spatially-confusing blanket rooms until they find a spot that fits them all semi-comfortably. The interior is dim and warm in a way that makes Ragh feel sheltered from the outside world, even though he’s fully aware that the chances of someone busting in on them in the middle of all this are very high.

“Okay,” he says, once it seems like they’ve all more or less adjusted themselves. “Uh, how do you wanna do this?”

Gorgug and Fabian glance at each other. They’re sitting side-by-side with their backs to the entrance and Ragh across from them, but the room is so cramped with the three of them stuffed inside that they’re pretty much all touching each other anyway. 

It’s clear they haven’t planned ahead, so Ragh decides to try throwing a couple suggestions out there. “I mean, two at a time? Dive right into it? Honestly, I’m down for whatever.”

“Maybe we should—” Gorgug starts, and that’s as far as he gets before Fabian reaches over and grabs him. 

Ragh can’t tell at first from looking at them whether or not this is, like, a common thing. He thinks probably not, given the way Gorgug jumps when Fabian grips a fistful of his hoodie and crushes their mouths together. 

Still, once Gorgug picks up what’s happening he doesn’t seem to have much of a problem with Fabian casually manhandling him. He rests his hand on Fabian’s shoulder and kisses him back, as polite and careful as Fabian is rough and insistent. Mostly he seems focused on balancing Fabian out, shifting back when he scoots closer, just enough that they don’t go toppling over and tear down the blanket walls. 

They break apart for a second to breathe and when they come back together it’s a lot smoother than the first time, like they’ve been learning from each other as they go. It’s sweet in a way that reminds Ragh of the complicated lurch of feeling he always used to get when he would see two guys being intimate in a movie or show or whatever— not necessarily making out or doing anything romantic, just noticeably caring about each other past the point when he would start to imagine Dayne laughing at them in his head. 

Dayne is someone he wants to think about in this context even less than Fathethriel, and so he does his best to focus on the sight in front of him, watching Gorgug do his best to keep his tusks out of the way even as Fabian does his best to bring them into the mix. 

He gets so absorbed that he forgets that he’s supposed to be participating until they break apart again, both turning to look at him. 

Ragh’s first instinct is to try to high-five them, or something, like slapping butts at practice. It only occurs to him after he’s given an appreciative “hell yeah” that different rules probably apply in this situation. 

Gorgug says something in reply, but it ends up fading to background noise in Ragh’s mind as Fabian lurches closer, gripping the back of Ragh’s head in one hand and kissing him soundly on the mouth. 

It’s so different than it was with Fathethriel, even though Fabian’s proportions are similar; Fathethriel had sighed airily into Ragh’s mouth almost the second their lips touched, falling backwards into the fragrant grass of the clearing they’d been lying in and tipping back his long pale neck like they were star-crossed lovers at the climax of a romance novel instead of two dudes trying to have a good time. 

In contrast, kissing Fabian feels like straight up naval warfare. He uses his grip on Ragh’s hair to guide him where he wants him to go, shifting weight onto his knees so that he’s looming over Ragh in the small space, presence totally overwhelming in spite of the size difference. 

Ragh moves his hands from Fabian’s strong lean forearms up to his shoulders, from the smooth curve of his jaw to the rougher buzzed sides of his head. Only when the taste of blood hits Ragh’s tongue does it occur to him that he should probably be keeping better track of his tusks.

“Shit,” he says, pulling back to check the damage. “Sorry, dude.” 

“That’s alright,” Fabian says magnanimously, catching the trickle of blood from his mouth with the back of his hand and then wiping it off on a nearby cushion. He leans back in before Ragh can suggest a break, bearing him backwards until they’re even further into Gorgug’s space than they were already. 

Ragh had wondered if it would be weird to have someone else watching once he actually started to be included in the kissing part, but it turns out to be completely fine. If anything, it’s weird how normal it feels for Ragh’s back to bump against Gorgug’s knees or his elbow to brush against Gorgug’s arm pretty much every time he and Fabian move, which is often, since it’s Fabian. 

It definitely does not feel normal when Gorgug adjusts his position behind them, opening his arms up to pull Ragh backwards so that he’s half-laying back against Gorgug’s chest as Fabian gives him one more copper-tasting kiss. 

When Fabian pulls back, Ragh’s head is swimming. He’s definitely imagined himself in a dude sandwich before, but the abrupt realization of the fantasy has thrown him for a loop. 

“So?” Fabian demands, either of him or Gorgug. Ragh isn’t entirely sure. He’s kind of spacing out, to be honest. 

“That was, like, really beautiful,” Gorgug says sincerely. 

Fabian just snorts and wipes the last remnants of blood from his mouth. He looks almost the way he did right after they’d taken down that pylon powering Calethriel Tower; confident, a little reckless, and fully himself in a way Ragh can’t remember ever seeing before they left Elmville. 

This Fabian is a vast improvement over the miserable pneumonia-ridden version they’d left Leviathan with, and Ragh is glad to see him, even when he sits back on his heels and looks between the two of them like he’s waiting for them to hurry up and get on with it.

Only then does Ragh remember that he’s still sprawled out on the floor with his back against Gorgug’s front, now minus the pressure of Fabian’s kiss pushing him backwards. 

He cranes his neck to look up at Gorgug, just to check how he’s doing, and Gorgug surprises him by leaning down to kiss him right away. Ragh lets out a startled grunt, but it trails off as Gorgug pats his sternum soothingly with an open palm. 

As it turns out, the logistics of kissing for an extended period of time with two sets of tusks prove to be challenging. Gorgug is careful, just like he’d been with Fabian, but Ragh still feels the blunt pressure of them against his mouth, sharp edges digging in when he tilts his head to angle it closer. It doesn’t hurt, or anything; it’s kind of nice, actually. Orcs are tougher than elves or humans, so he can be a little more fast and loose without worrying too much about inflicting harm. 

The friendly weight of Gorgug’s arm across his chest makes him think about prom night—not any of the shitty parts, which are varied and numerous, but the singular bright spot that stands out in the middle of it all. Gorgug kissing him that night is a really special memory, even though he basically had Ragh in a chokehold and both of them were bleeding in their ruined suits and Ragh was pretty sure at the time that they were all going to die. 

This kiss definitely has a much different energy to it, which Ragh is grateful for. The good parts are the same as he remembers, and everything else is chiller and more unhurried and a lot less life-threatening. He imagines getting to do this all the time and his heart squeezes in a way it definitely never had during any of the stuff he did with Fathethriel. 

It’s so nice that Ragh ignores the twinges in his neck from their position for as long as he can. He only pulls away when it actually starts to hurt, wishing more than he ever has in his life that he didn’t have bones. 

Gorgug blinks when Ragh pulls back like he’d been zoned out too, still holding on loosely as Ragh twists in his arms to face forward again and stretch out his neck. 

Doing so reminds him of Fabian’s presence, less obtrusive in the small space than Gorgug had been but still undeniably there. He’s watching them with the unfathomable expression he gets sometimes, the one where Ragh has no idea whether he’s pondering some deep shit or just thinking about kippers. 

A moment later, any guesses Ragh has either way are banished from his mind by the feeling of shaggy hair brushing the side of his neck. 

Gorgug leans down to drop a kiss on top of Ragh’s shoulder, voice muffled when he speaks. “We’re glad you came with us, dude.” 

Ragh’s nose feels itchy all of a sudden, eyes prickling with a combination of feelings he’s not really sure he could put a name to at the moment. 

It would be super uncool of him to cry during an MVP makeout, so he does his best to sound normal when he replies. “Thanks, bro. Means a lot.”

“It wouldn’t be the same without you, Ragh,” Fabian says, and gives Ragh’s other shoulder a bracing slap. His tone is airy as ever, but he holds on for an extra second after he does it, grip firm and tight. “Shall we finish up?”

“Yeah,” Gorgug says, “hang on.” He crawls out from behind Ragh and maneuvers himself carefully into a cross-legged position, so that they’re all clustered together in a circle like the world’s weirdest late-game bloodrush huddle.

They just sit there for a while, quietly sharing air. Ragh is just about to ask whether he should count it down when Fabian sits up a little straighter, inhaling deeply. 

“I believe in you guys,” he says, and then he leans in toward the middle. Gorgug and Ragh follow suit, until their three faces collide in a messy press of lips and teeth. 

Ragh barely has a second to try to sort through the indistinct feeling of mouths and noses pressed against each other at weird angles before someone flings aside the blanket-curtain that protects them from view, sending shafts of tranquil forest sunshine washing over the three of them. 

“Hey, is anyone in there? Me and Ayda are gonna—holy shit!” That’s definitely Fig’s voice, initially shocked and then growing exponentially more delighted with every word. “Are you guys three-way kissing? Is that _blood_?”

“None of your _business_!” Fabian yells as he scrambles to disentangle himself, voice getting lost in the sound of Fig’s laughter and Ayda’s rapid-fire questions. 

Gorgug looks dazed when Ragh glances over at him, like it’s going to take him a few minutes to process all this. Ragh slings an arm around his shoulders in solidarity, even though if he thinks about it he doesn’t really care that much about being walked in on. A lack of privacy doesn’t seem like a huge price to pay for the security of knowing that there’s always someone there to have his back.

**Author's Note:**

> thank you for reading!!! [HOOT GROWL](https://twitter.com/spectrologist)


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